


Burning Feathers

by GalekhXigisi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Angel Sam Winchester, Archangel Sam Winchester, Fallen Angel Sam Winchester, Season 14 Spoilers, This is complicated and drafty, Trans Sam Winchester, it's complicated - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 20:42:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17311550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalekhXigisi/pseuds/GalekhXigisi
Summary: Sam's world gets flipped upside down simply at a hearing a name. Now, he has to learn how to be an angel from just about any source he can.





	1. Chapter 1

Sam scans the parking lot, pressing his brother against himself. Castiel frowns as he himself helps Jack. The youngest Winchester thumps across the lot, holding his brother tightening in his arms, protective of what may be a corpse if that last throw was any indication of his health. It worries the youngest Winchester as he slips Dean into the backseat, following instantly. Jack slips into shotgun while Castiel takes driver’s seat, something so rare, so  _ new _ to the angel. 

 

Michael makes no move as he stands at the doors to the opening, hip instead cocked to the side. The female voice booms through the lot, heard over the engine of the car. “Run, all of you! It doesn’t matter, because, in the end, you’re still the same beings you always have been. A human, a Nephilim, and two angels! We haven’t forgotten about you, _ Samael! _ You’re just as fallen as any other!” 

 

Sam flinches at the name, gasping as a bright flash triggers inside of him, burning his eyes. White hot pain boils underneath his skin at the same time a somber freeze follows, flickering with faces existing as stars, wracking his brain and screaming recognition at Michael and Lucifer’s own souls. The two fight fluently, others sitting around with their own worried expressions, only a few other angels and the two faces he recognizes as Amara and Chuck. He recognizes Gabriel and Raphael as well, the rest going unknown in his mind. 

 

The images flicker to war, watching the unrecognized angels slaughter by tendrils of darkness, tightly wrapping around them. Some stab through souls, leaving deathly wounds while others suffocated. One even consumes what little is left of a soul, making Sam flinch so hard that he’s sure it looks painful to any onlookers. 

 

He watches a snake press fruit to someone’s palm, watching her eat it. He flinches once more as an angel yells for him to stop, simply facing Gadreel. The words are mumbled, nothing more than harsh, high=pitched wailing in his ears. Sam presses his hands to his temples, pressing harsher. Thankfully, the squealing ends in time for him to jerk up. Jack’s hand seems to press to his shoulder, making the visions stop as he flinches forward, hyperventilating. 

 

Sam stares at Jack, chest heaving up and down so quickly that he could barely even register his own breathing. He presses his back against the seat, forcing himself to breathe as the other two shoot rapid fire questions. 

 

“Sam- Sam? Are you okay? Did you see anything?” 

 

That seems to be the only thing Sam can comprehend as he listens. His mouth feels like it’s full of cotton as he supplies, “I-I-I saw something? Like a-a trial, maybe? Angels, a lot. Lucifer, Michael, Gabriel, Amara, God, Raphael. There were others! An-and a war! Darkness and death!” He does his best to explain, but as soon as they had appeared, they disappeared, though the sadness still burns fresh in his mind. “Eve and Lucifer. Maybe Gadreel? I-I don’t know, Cas, just  _ something _ was there.” 

 

The angel pauses, stiff. “Damnit,” he whispers, continuing on with the drive. More questions waver in, simple questions of if he was okay or not, mostly originating from Jack than Castiel. The angel is set to stone, glaring down at his own lap instead of actually participating in any conversation. The radio plays quietly as they ride. 

 

-

 

Dean watches Sam from the other side of the room, watching as Cas throws down yet another book of lore onto the table. Jack picks it up, immediately beginning to skim through it as the youngest Winchester sits with his hands in his lap, deathly silent. Dean, for once, feels no need to pry in the least, He knows those sad, puppy-dog eyes with a look at him with piping hot concern, making his stomach retract and his eyes water. He doesn’t know how to help here, either, which makes it all feel so much worse to him. 

 

“Samael was a fallen angel, as typically known. He was also known as a demon and an incredibly sinful angel, despite still being under God’s wing. He was one of many archangels, as well.” Cas flips through books, watching curiously as Dean does the same to websites. 

 

“I’ve read up on him,” Sam groans softly. “I just… I don’t understand  _ how _ I can possibly be an angel, much less one that’s supposed to be fallen or dead.” 

 

Dean looks up from his computer. “What about Anna? She was fallen and she ended up fine?” 

 

“She’s  _ dead, _ Dean. That seem fine to you? If I _ am _ an angel, when I die, I go to the fucking Empty. That’s just darkness for forever.” 

 

“But you went to Heaven the first time, correct,” Jack asks. 

 

Sam scoffs. “I’ve also been to Hell and the Cage, Jack. There’s a lot of options here.” He glares at the books that sat at the table. “Samael… He wasn't told as anything good. He was Cain’s father, married to Lilith.” 

 

“You killed your wife,” Dean snarks, getting a classic Bitch Face in return. “Yeah, wrong time,” he agrees as his smile falls. 

 

“She’s not my wife, De-” The comment goes interrupted by Sam suddenly clinging to his head, groaning so loudly that it undoubtedly was heard through the halls of the Bunker. 

 

_ “Stop it,” _ Sam begs, head pressing to the table as the three crowd around him. 

 

_ The demon pressed foward, hands against Samael’s skin, a smirk on her lips. However, the archangel pulls away, pushing her with weak arms. They don’t seem to be Sam’s limbs, especially with how thin they were, pale. They’re almost as white as paper, which worries Sam more than anything.  _

 

_ The woman, however, doesn’t seem to care, pulling his clothing away from his body. She glares, groaning. “You’re a fucking girl? I can’t mate with a girl… Why didn’t you possess  _ any _ other vessel?”  _

 

_ “This one was given to me. I didn’t need to find a vessel. I can’t seem to eject from it, either.”  _

 

_ “Such a shame, Samael,” the demoness mumbles, “Do you have any friends that would be able to do this? Not that demons _ have _ friends, but I’m sure you have some ally strong enough to… you know.”  _

 

Sam pulls up, gasping softly. “Not my kids,” he instantly groans, breathing not as messy as it had been beforehand. “We didn’t  _ do _ anything, not like that.” 

 

_ “‘We?’” _

 

Sam shrugs to Dean. “She said Samael, okay? Why else would I be getting these stupid visions? It doesn’t seem to be the demon blood visions. These feel more… Real, I guess?” 

 

Dean glares, “Better fuckin’ not be,” 

 

Jack sits down. “Demon blood? I thought you were human? Or an angel?” 

 

“I have demon blood in me, technically,” Sam recounts, though he looks like this is the least tasteful thing he’s ever heard. Thankfully, Jack takes the hint to just drop the topic, instead, turning back to the books once more. The topic isn’t brought up again at the table, thankfully. 

 

-

 

Sam frowns at Castiel. “If I  _ am _ an angel, why am I here? Is there even a way to get my grace back?” 

 

The angel pauses, sitting up from the chair. His relaxed position was now one of strict professionalism. Sam secretly hates it. “I’m not sure. I wasn’t even aware Samael actually existed. We only ever knew of Lucifer, Gabriel, Raphael, and Michael. There were other archangels that fell in the fight with Amara, but we only knew their names. I’m not sure why you would truly fall. If you  _ do _ have a true past as a demon, then that would definitely be the reason you fell then. Samael was told to be an incredibly strong demon and archangel alike, while other times he was a simple bystander. With the demon blood in you, it would explain certain aspects of things.” 

 

“So I would have both in me, as _ he _ did?” 

 

Cas nods, “Essentially, yes. But I have no idea how that would work into the timeline given, especially with Azazel and all. There are a lot of factors here.” He looks away, lips pursed. “With Michael possessing your father, there’s also the chance that has something to do with all of this.” 

 

“If I were a Nephilim, losing my grace would…” He trails off, hinting at what happened with Jack. The two still hate to voice it, especially so soon. 

 

“It would… I didn’t feel much grace when I took out Gadreel’s grace, or at least not enough to differentiate the two. It seemed to just be a human soul.” 

 

It didn’t make sense to Sam. He was raised as a human, nothing more, just a human. Sure, he was a hunter, but he always knew he was, for the most part, human. He knew demon blood resided in him, of course, but it all seemed so… Different, now, knowing that there weren’t  _ just _ the two types in his soul. It only confuses him more and more as he thinks about it. His head physically hurts from the strain he’d been putting on himself attempting to figure this out. 

 

-

 

Dreams were… Vivid, to say the least. The first night, he found dreams of an older man with a beard, commanding him to do as he pleased. It confused Sam more and more, watching his angel self chained down by the neck as an older man demanded things. The angel had been trapped in the human’s grasp, battered and wounded. Others seemed to follow, using the all too manipulative angel to their own wishes until the angel had manipulated them enough to free him. That just made Sam’s head spin as he threw himself up in a cold sweat, knowing his eyes would sport dark bags underneath. 

 

He made his coffee in silence, passing off any  _ Are you okay _ ’s with a nod, just excusing it as the last hunt, which wasn’t exactly a lie. He went about his morning routine as if he weren’t getting flashes of a fallen archangel’s life, boring into his soul with unseen eyes. He didn’t even know if he still had any grace left, much less if it actually even existed anymore. 

 

Dean caught his eye a few times, excusing himself to tend to Garth as best he could. There seemed to be some confusion there, but at least they were attempting to purify the werewolf. If Michael truly wanted them dead, they would have sent Garth to sick ‘em. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Sam’s fingers flex over the keyboard, staring at the screen with a new level of shock. Ketch, of all people, had emailed him, voicing his concerns electronically. Why hadn’t he just texted the Winchester? Emails were so much slower, in his opinion, but he still read over the email nonetheless. 

 

_ Sam,  _

 

_ The BMOL have heard about your situation with Michael, with Samael, for lack of better phrasing. We have selectively chosen to voice that we may have a solution, one of which may help you.  _

 

_ The BMOL harbor many magical items, as well as many different angel’s graces. We seem to have one that’s incredibly strong, nearing Lucifer’s own grace, and we’ve selectively chosen to hand it over, considering that no one can tell which angel it came from, not even the Archangel Gabriel could do so. If you choose to accept, we can have it over by tomorrow morning. However, if you choose otherwise, we will continue to withhold and protect the grace. _

 

_ This is an incredibly long shot, but you Winchesters are supposed to be a rather large aspect in the future, based around everyone’s words. Whilst I must apologize for the lack of professionalism in this, I believe we’ve surpassed all that, especially since we’ve worked together and such.  _

 

Sam continued to read on, listening in on the words with his own selective frown. His response was a few simple sentences and a _ Worth a shot, right? Grace always goes back to its source when it can. _ Castiel had proven that. Even if it didn’t go to him, it was worth another shot to give it to Jack or even Castiel himself. 

 

-

 

Dean glared at his brother, as well as the package on the table. “You didn’t even  _ consider _ telling us about this,” he demands, slamming a fist on the table. The package had arrived only an hour ago, picked up by Sam and Jack. The Nephilim simply wanted to go to town. Who was Sam to judge him for such? However, at their arrival, Dean greeted them with harsh glares. 

 

Castiel stood beside the older Winchester, not making much of a comment. Sam, however, shrugs. “Worth a shot. Cas said grace goes to its original owner if released. If it doesn’t go to me, then we can give it to Jack or Cas. Ketch said it rivaled Lucifer’s grace, so that would certainly help either of them out a lot.” 

 

Dean shakes his head, slow and annoyed. “If it’s your grace, _ then _ what? Will you lose your memories? Get nothing but Samael’s memories? Change?” 

 

At this, Cas finally butts in. “Anna did not change when she recovered her grace,” he reminds, “She still considered her parents family> The only difference was suddenly having Angel Radio going off constantly and her powers. Sam won’t change, either, not even with all the titles Samael carried. He’ll still be Sam.” 

 

Dean begrudgingly gives in at the mention of giving Jack some grace, even if it seems risky. He opens the box, finding a rather large tube withholding grace. Instead of it looking flowy, as it usually did, it looks pure white, glowing a bright blue. It was simply a blob, forced into a tube that seemed much too small to contain the grace. 

 

“I can’t read that grace,” Castiel frowns, “I’ve always been able to?” 

 

Sam scoffs. “Yeah, neither could Gabriel.” Cas seems to make no comment, already knowing of his brother’s interaction with the British Men of Letters. 

 

The instant Dean opens the tube, the grace dances forward, going straight to Sam. instead of going through his mouth, as expected, it went to his chest, burning bright in the dim room of the bunker. Sam grits his teeth, jaw clenching at hit burns. The instant he shuts his eyes, images flash before his eyes, though none stick around long enough to actually make any sense. His muscles burn white hot, clashing with the somber frost he feels so deep in his chest and bones that he thinks it’s his own soul, fighting against the grace. 

 

He ioens his eyes, feeling power surge through him as the lights flicker around him. His shadow burns bright around his body, turning the background black in its' wake. Three sets of large wings take over, blistering bright. They’re large, though they make Sam want to scream from the pain of them existing. His hand immediately goes to tough one, expecting it to not actually feel like anything. However, the instant he actually touches them, he flinches back. THey sting, feeling wet, bloody, even. His hand holds red on it once he flicks back, physical blood on his fingers. He stares at it before looking back at the three before him, begging for answers. The adrenaline, he knows, will only last so long before it actually all begins to ache. 

 

“Your wings seem healthy,” Castiel comments. 

 

Sam flinches at taking notice of the angel, however. His grace illuminates the room, burning bright blue. It’s mesmerizing. Jack sports a soul just a tad bit brighter, orange and glowing calmly. Dean’s soul makes his chest stir. Green and orange stir, earthy tones mixing through concern. 

 

“Holy  _ shit,” _ Sam whispers, despite how weak he feels from simply standing. 

 

-

 

_ The Empty flinches awake, feeling it’s existence buzz, painful. Voices call out, angel after angel awoken, calling out for help, guidance. They don’t understand, not in the least, how every angel can suddenly be awoken. The Archangels, all of them, seem to be stirring.  _

 

_ Gabriel’s essence imitates something of excitement, bouncing around happily. As soon as they come face to face with the archangel, he hops up and wraps a hug around them.  _

 

_ “Oh, dead Empty, do you understand what’s going on?” There’s a shake of its' head. “Brother Samael is back in business, baby! Everyone’s up and at ‘em! Our brother’s awake, back and burning as he did all those years ago!”  _

 

_ The Empty doesn’t feel any sort of excitement for that. Instead, it glares at the archangel. “But… Samael’s soul was here?”  _

 

_ “Samael never died, though! Just fell!”  _

 

_ The Empty has to take a breather, pulling back into its' own pit of darkness to take recount on the souls staying there. Nine souls still remained outside of the realm, two having already visited. How, in great God’s name, had Samael escaped the void? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS DIDN'T ACTUALLY POST AND I FUCKING PANICKED AT FIRST HHHHHHHH

**Author's Note:**

> This is risky and messy, hhhhhhhhhh
> 
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> 
> Tumblr: GalehkXigisi or Transheman (May not respond, Tumblr is a buggy bitch)
> 
> Instagram: Todorokishootme or Assbutt666
> 
> Discord: Shooketh Whomst#2679
> 
> Twitter (SFW): DavenderLav
> 
> Twitter (NSFW): DaveyWinchester
> 
> Kik: AdrienSatan


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